One Short Letter, One Big Change
by Tressa
Summary: After all this time, the government had finally split them apart. Royai,


Title: One Short Letter, One Big Change

Author: Tressa

Rating: K+

Summery: After Conquerors of Shambala. After all this time, the government had finally split them up.

Authors note: Ugh. I'm still fairly new to FMA. Please be gentle.

**FMA**

It was the last possible time they would see each other for a very long time. He had always thought that she would remain by his side, as his aid, his subordinate, his friend and his confidante.

He was finally getting closer. He was almost there. And then had one of his greatest supports ripped out from underneath him.

Heart beating wildly, he glanced down at the letter again, mentally willing the command to change. He had even gone so far as to grabbing his gloves, hoping he might have a moment of insanity and burn the cursed thing. Of course, neither one of these happened.

_To: Colonel Riza Hawkeye, Central_

_Regarding: Change in Command_

_Colonel Hawkeye,_

_Your exemplary performance through out your career has come to our attention. The need for distinguished officers such as yourself is great for the surrounding territories. As such, you are being transferred to a command position in the Northern Territories. You will report to General Shiba. You're train leaves at 1200 hours, tomorrow._

_General Maxamillian Sias_

_Secretary of the Military- Amestrian Parliament_

There was a tearing sound as the paper ripped in his tightened grasp and it was only with gentle hands was she able to pry it from his fingers. "I would remind you, sir, that this was always a possibility." Despite her apparent detachment, he could hear a slight tremor underlining her tone. Disappointment, anger, sadness. It could've been any number of things.

But all that didn't matter.

He glanced up and their eyes met; both promises made echoing in their ears and their minds.

Promises that appeared were going to be broken.

"I'm sorry, sir." Her shaky voice could only allow those three words. He could see her mouth move as she tried to say something else, but her breath caught and all she could manage was a feeble smile and to straighten her posture.

"You didn't fail, Hawkeye." No matter what, he wasn't about to let her feel as though she did not complete her promise. She did so to the best of her ability.

He should've been more aware of the possibility of this happening, and perhaps in the back of his mind, he had always feared that she would never make it all the way with him to the top. She was too good a soldier, too loyal, too dependable, it was her qualities and her assets that would eventually be their downfall.

Of course, he had shoved the idea to the back of his mind, where it rested with the Rockbells, and the massacre of Ishvar. He had, in fact, convinced himself that she would always remain by his side, through everything. They had survived the war, survived the government under King Bradley, and survived his self-imposed demotion to the very location she was going to.

"The Northern Territories are lucky," he said, after he had managed to recover from the shock. "You'll do a good job there, Colonel."

She shook her head. "Not compared to what you managed in the East, sir. It'll be nothing compared to that."

Inside, he was wanting to scream and stomp his way to the Secretary of the Military, demanding he speak with both him and the General and force an explanation as to why they were taking HIS Colonel. Why her? Why not someone else? There were others, maybe not _as_ qualified as Hawkeye was, but, who were qualified enough and would serve their purpose wisely.

But instead, he simply seethed, and tried to gain control of any other physical manifestation of his anger. He was so preoccupied in his thoughts, he did not notice one small, calloused hand reach up and softly brush the few stray strands of hair blocking the vision in his one good eye. He watched, mesmerized as she moved it aside, and forced a smile on her face. And then it hit him.

He loved her.

"You need to take better care of yourself, sir," she said, trying to stand tall and appear unfazed. She was doing a lousy job. "I'll have to leave a note for your new subordinate."

"She won't be taking your place," he said, catching her hand in his, gently massaging it. He had held other women's hands, and found the majority to be small, soft, with a slight fragrance from a scented crème. And he also found it to be the norm. These women wanted to be the best out of the bunch to capture their dream man's heart.

But her hands were different. As he caressed her hands with his fingers, he felt the typical softness, then a patch of skin that had thickened and hardened from continual work. Then another, and another. He loved her hands, because they were everything that she was. Small, soft, gentle, beautiful, yet tough. Hardworking. He ran a finger over one of the many calluses and smiled. She had pulled that trigger for him. For him and for their country. There was no way that he'd ever be able to thank her. There was no way he could ever explain how he felt for her.

He raised her hand, holding it close. Then ever so softly, he gently laid a kiss, brushing his lips across the back of her hand. He heard her inhale quietly, but she didn't retract it. Letting her hand go, he looked back and saw a bit of hope in her eyes.

"Promise me, the moment you get a chance and you feel that it's time to come back, that you will." He stepped a bit closer. "I haven't reached my goal, Hawkeye. I need you with me."

She nodded, stood up straight and saluted sharply. One quick glance over her shoulder let him know the door to the office was shut. Now was the time; he'd never get another chance.

Reaching up with one hand, he gently cupped her face. Her posture suddenly was relaxed, but she said nothing. Brushing aside the fair strands just for the sake of touching her hair, he closed his eyes and lowered his lips to meet hers.

It was the most exhilarating thing he had ever experienced. She tasted of honey and vanilla, and her lips were like velvet. He felt her hand lower from its raised position to come around his neck and pull him closer.

It was chaste, innocent, and didn't go pass that one kiss. But when he pulled away and saw the tears, he began to wonder if he had done something wrong.

"No sir," she said, responding to his unasked question. "You did nothing wrong."

He felt the tension leave his body. "You're strong. I know you don't need something as silly as this to anchor you down. But please . . ."

"It's not silly, sir," she replied and for the first time in a long time, Riza Hawkeye looked at peace with their ever changing situations. "It's anything but silly. Don't underestimate that." She turned, grabbing her purse off the now empty desk. He watched her as she walked toward the closed door; the hand he had massaged, coming up to touch the lips he had just kissed. "I have something to keep me warm now." The door opened, and Colonel Riza Hawkeye exited the office of Lieutenant General Roy Mustang for the last time.

The next day, he sat at his desk, quietly looking over the documents that had made their way to him the day before. Of course, with the unsettling news the day before, he hadn't even tried to finish it. Off to the side, he could see Lieutenant Jean Havoc explaining the different tasks to one Lieutenant Blaise Skylar, the officer assigned to take Hawkeye's place. As he signed one paper and moved on to the stack, he saw a plain looking envelope with the words Brigadier General Mustang written in a very familiar script. He sighed. "I once asked you, Hawkeye, if you were willing to follow me to top. Is that still a valid question?" Shoving the stack of papers to the side momentarily, he tore the edge off and removed the paper. The letter had only a few simple phrases.

_You needn't ask, sir. You already know the answer._

He bit back a smile and place the letter back in the envelope. She knew him a bit too well, perhaps, but he wouldn't want it to be anyone else but her. He laid the letter in his drawer that contained his personal items and locked it. Settling back in his chair, he grabbed the next paper and began to read over it.


End file.
